


oh, how my soul sings for you; only you

by skitty_titty



Series: fall, fall, falling in love [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, Post!BOTW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skitty_titty/pseuds/skitty_titty
Summary: it's hard, wanting to forget everything that's happened, after already not remembering anything, hurting everyone around him; all he ever seems to do is hurt, whether it's himself or the people close to him (does he even have anyone, anymore?).he searches desperately for anything, anyone, whatever he can find that makes him feel alive anymore--does he even have the capability, to feel, after everything's finished?





	1. magnets are drawn together

**Author's Note:**

> hello, everyone! thank you for deciding to read this; it means a lot.
> 
> but, there are some warnings, listed below:  
> -depression  
> -fear of abandonment  
> -self-hate  
> -(very small, almost nonexistent) description of violence
> 
> it sounds sad but, i promise, it gets better.

it’s been a week, four days, and seven hours since link defeated calamity ganon.

it’s only been a week, four days, and seven awful hours, and link feels like he’s having the worst unescapable nightmare he’s ever had.

it’s waking up before the sun even begins to rise, breathing in desperate air which still isn’t enough to calm his shaking heart; it’s a sweaty forehead, sweaty arms, sweaty everything, even after he showers; it’s hearing a noise, perhaps the wind blowing on the house - not home, not home, not _home_ \- from a different direction, that sends link into a frenzy: grab weapon, hunt, hunt, hunt, kill.

it’s all he’s done for so long now: kill for self-defence, kill for ingredients, kill for quests. he knows that these monsters only feel hatred towards other living creatures, only trying to survive,

still, he hates it, hates what he’s adjusted too. no one else seems to understand.

zelda wonders why link can’t hold a sword anymore. well, literally, link can but he won’t. he won’t pick up a blade that holds a heavy amount of bloodshed, not if he has a choice.

he does have a choice.

zelda says he’s done enough for the land. he can come to the castle at any time, repick up his position as a guard at any time, help out whenever he wants at any time--

she doesn’t seem to understand that he can’t.

link wants to sleep for a year, two years, perhaps another hundred years-- anything rather than feeling this constant battle of “it’s over, you’re not needed anymore” and “hey, the princess needs help!” screaming at each other over and over.

link can’t sleep, though, not peacefully.

so he wanders around hateno village (the citizens are long since used to it, really). he just wanders, occasionally managing to muster a smile for the old lady who’s delivered him a nice cake and promises on delivering more. link likes that lady, feels like she understands how he feels, even just a little.

the children of the village don’t particularly avoid him but they sense a change, something that children are scarily good at. sometimes they watch him worriedly from a bush, before their parents call them for supper and they forget all about it.

link always sighs, huffs, groans - whatever you want to call it - before walking the short distance back to his house (his lonely, empty house; is it even his?). the only thing that’s really his own is a picture. all the others mean nothing; he doesn’t remember the old hyrule and so much has changed that most pictures aren’t recognisable.

this picture, though: link knows it means something. he’s remembered something about it and… the feeling gives him a strange sense of life.

everyone’s together, just before zelda travels to the spring of wisdom in lanayru. it’s a failure and also the beginning of the end, though no one seems to mind (everyone’s too oblivious to notice the sinking feeling in their gut, except link, who stands stoic as always, praying that it’s not time, oh, Goddess, please i’m not ready).

everyone’s together, and that’s the nice thing. despite revali being annoyed (not really, of course not; everything’s just a front with him), mipha being shy (she’s always timid, but it’s even worse when she’s near zelda, dreaming of dating her, kissing her, stroking her hair, and sharing stories in the early morning, knowing none of it’s ever going to happen), urbosa standing tall, waiting for this whole ordeal to be over (she’s not annoyed, just worried; she, perhaps, is the only other person who’s noticed The Feeling), and daruk being as playful as ever (crouching behind everyone was slightly irritating, though he’s glad he got them all back), it’s still a nice photo.

_‘it’s made better by daruk’s improvisation’,_ link thinks to himself, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. it’s so rare that he smiles anymore; again, it’s only at the old lady who, scarily enough, feels like his only friend in this empty world.

zelda’s busy, busy, busy, like always, but this time she’s too busy to even notice what’s going on. link doesn’t blame her, not really; he just wishes they could take a break together, maybe even go swimming down a river to their old hideout, just the two of them. it’s not going to happen. link stops himself thinking about it before he gets too caught up on old memories (the things he remembers are scarce, so he holds them close to his chest. he hates the feeling in his brain, the one of emptiness, though he knows it's there, he just can’t access it).

urbosa’s healing and helping, retraining her muscles to work again. there’s never any pause in lightning, no hesitation once it has found its target, and urbosa is the same. there’s work and there’s play but, quite often, they’re one of the same. link is slightly intimidated by her, and even more intimidated by the fact that she seems to have her life sorted out, knowing what to do in any situation.

mipha has been reunited with her family, been reunited with her brother and father, two beings she was forced to watch over, intimidating them instead of protecting. she’s so sorry, despite it not being her fault, and she spends her days with sidon and her nights alone in her bed, wondering whether she could have changed what was going to happen, whether she could have prevented it (she also wonders, when it’s particularly dark outside, whether she would ever see the princess again; the old princess, who cares about plants and animals, who cared about mipha).

daruk is helping sort a new trade route with the rest of the miners team. they’re digging through the mountain, hoping to create another exit that leads you to hyrule cast quicker, and hopefully stop the flow of tourists who now think it’s safe enough to explore. he’s busy, as is everyone else, and link doesn’t feel the same connection that he once did. the only thing that remains the same is the mutual love for food, though link can’t muster up the energy to cook anymore, and it’s even harder to enjoy what he’s made (everything feels so empty; i wonder when i’ll get used to it).

revali is the final champion. revali is the one who makes link feel the most, and that’s scary, so link thinks about revali the least.

from what he can tell, he never was that close to revali. from the few memories he’s managed to scrape up, the only feelings he remembers are resentment (oh, Goddess, all he ever does is brag, will he ever shut up?), slight awe with a side of annoyance (the way he soared through the air was elegant and graceful, but what he said after it makes me want to scream in his face, does he even know how to work for things?), and then soft (the final emotion was one he intruded on, he truly didn’t mean to walk in on revali crouching down, examining a baby rito’s wing, which was bent at a strange angle; he didn’t expect to see revali bright out a flower from behind his back, gifting it to the fledgling, along with a comforting pair of words; link walked out before he could see revali gentle stroke the fledgling’s forehead, disappearing just before the healer could return).

there’s a lot link doesn’t know, and sometimes it scares him. other times, he assumes it’s for the best; it depends on his mood really.

currently, he’s assuming it’s for the best. lying on his bed, curled up into a tight, little ball, which is making him as small as he can be (a survival tactic, he thinks bitterly, but the position is too comfortable for him to move from it).

his mind starts to wander, as it always does when you’re lying in bed, staring at a wall. he wonders whether the champions think of him, or whether they’re too busy to even spare a thought. he thinks it’s likely. the only thing he is to them is a rescuer, who they’ve thanked and owe nothing too (‘i’d thank and discard myself, too, if i could’, link thinks).

he doesn’t know how many hours pass with him thinking so very heavily, but it’s dark now and link doesn’t feel any more tired than he did two days ago (he’s so tired, in fact, that it’s all blended into one; it’s so hard to understand what he’s feeling anymore, let alone talk about it).

he’s up and out of bed at three AM. he’s energised for the first time in forever. no more lying around, no more wishing for a friend, for attention, for _anything_.

it’s time to go get it.

 

* * *

 

link finds himself on horseback (epona, oh, epona, he hasn’t seen her in too long), easily sliding back into the familiar worn-in reins and saddle.

his hylian hood covers his hair, and he wraps a black scarf over his face; he doesn’t want to be recognised, though he thinks that’s unlikely anyway. he clicks his tongue, and his horse starts. it’s slow and the clop-clop-clop of hooves is relaxing, and link focuses on it, and feels the cool air dance across whatever skin is showing. he breathes in and breathes out; takes deep breath after deep breath. it feels like a life worth living, at that moment.

of course, it all eventually goes wrong.

it’s only a small hoard of bokoblins - with two? three? lizalfos scattered in there - but it’s enough to send link into a panic. the only weapon he holds is a small knife and, whilst he could probably take on the monsters with minimal injuries, his hands remain on the reins, tightly gripping them as if they’re his only lifeline (he doesn’t want to describe how his hands shake, or he has to bite his bottom lip to stop it from quivering).

he can’t cry, can’t yell for help - he never has been able to, if he remembers correctly, and the scar on his throat agrees with him - and yet, he finds himself wanting to, needing to.

the only thing that escapes him is a faint puff of breath and a weird gasping sound, as if he’s drowning. it feels like he’s drowning, too, whether from fear or the genuine lack of being able to breathe.

his horse has long since halted, whining worriedly, as if sensing link’s feelings (it’s something that animals are scarily good at). he wants to run or hide or cry, or all three, but he knows none of them are an option. he can already see the looks of pity if he survived (the great hylian champion reduced to nothing by six monsters he could easily take down).

he clicks his tongue. epona, warily, walks forward, trots forward-- he urges her more, though, faster. don’t look at me, don’t look at me, i’m gone before you see, don’t look at me, don’t look at me, i’m _gone_.

he’s gone. he’s gone past them, only hearing their faint cries in the background, having lost a piece of prey.

he wonders whether he was this scared of monsters when he just started fighting, or maybe he truly was always fearless. he doesn’t feel fearless anymore (he wonders if the only reason he survived before was because he had someone to rely on, someone to hold him and promise that everything would be alright; it wouldn’t, eventually, but their words helped).

his hands stop shaking and his lip stops quivering. still, the feeling of shock and fear jerks around his soul, and he fights to keep it contained. he focuses on his horse’s hooves, clop-clop-clop-clop--

it’s nice, soothing. his eyes are drooping now. for once, he feels the right kind of tired. he could sleep for years. it’s refreshing to feel again, but exhausting at the same time.

there’s a faint light near the end of the road, before a bridge: it’s a stable. link’s eyes close again, before being forced open, like his horse is being forced forwards faster, jostling him. it feels like the only thing keeping him awake - perhaps it is.

he reaches the front desk, where he (un)gracefully stumbles off epona, struggling to find enough rupees hidden in his satchel attached to epona’s bridle. he finds enough eventually, though he can’t tell how long he’s made the stable owner wait. he places the money down, and the owner pushes half back to him.

“you’re tired. hell, it looks like you haven’t slept in weeks,” he says, as an explanation, his voice deep and throaty, like he was tired too. he was tired. everyone’s tired, now.

_‘thanks’_ , link signs. _‘thank you’._

the owner just nods, points to a bed, and goes back to reading his book.

link collapses in the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

it’s strange, sleeping well. link wakes up when the sun’s already halfway across the sky, and still finds he could sleep more if he wanted too. he runs his finger through his hair - his hood fell down while he slept, though he doubts the two other people in the stable recognise him - and re-alters his scarf, so he’s completely covered again. he likes having things covering his face, gives him a feeling of security, warmth, anonymity. it’s nice.

he’s on his horse again, who has been sloppily tied to a post (link pets her mane and gives her an apple as an apology for just leaving her, and he curses his past self out before eventually sighing and continued on). they follow the path and it’s then, only then, that link realises where epona has led him.

it’s the rito stable, and the bridge is the start of the path to the rito village.

he wonders why he’s here, but feels his soul sing; it’s singing an unknown song and link doesn’t know what to do. the only thing he knows is that he’s supposed to be here. it feels strangely right.

he wonders what he’s missed, what memories he’s forgotten (who he’s hurt).

he thinks that it might be time to find out.

the bridge wobbles as epona steps on it, and he wonders whether he should have left her behind, but it’s too late now (it’s not, he takes her back and apologises for messing around, though the stable owner - who’s name, link remembers, is galli - laughs and takes her anyway; everything’s better and brighter in the morning).

he walks back up to the bridge again, feeling his heart hammer unnecessarily in his chest. foot after foot, he thinks and then he does, and it’s easier the further he goes. there’s a fish pond, which he remembers seeing a rito fledgeling at, fishing for her sister’s - khel? khil? kheel? - meal. it’s nice to remember something for once, no matter how useless the knowledge feels.

he continues up, nodding at the guard as he goes past. the guard waves, smiles, welcomes link back, but seems to sense that he isn’t in the mood for conversation.

“if you’re looking for revali-” the guard says, though, and it startles link; he hadn’t even realised that revali would be there- “he’s probably at the flight range. he’s working on getting his claw working well, and he’s working his way up to flying.”

link nods, unsure of what to reply. he always seems to nod, though no one seems to mind.

“see you around, link.” the guard says, but it sounds almost like a promise.


	2. everything's nice; when's the next stage?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he's happy here, and feels like he always will be. but his heart yearns for something, that only his soul can see. 
> 
> he hopes that, whatever it is, hurries up and quits taking its time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so, so much for reading!! it means the world to me <3
> 
> there's a few warnings, though:  
> -sad metaphors  
> -awkward dialogue [revali Please]  
> -if there's anything else i should tag, message me/leave a comment :)

_ ‘it’s funny’, _ link thinks. ‘ _ how quickly the guard’s words were proven to be true.’ _

link’s been spending more time with the rito: with kass who’s returned home for a while, finding that this is where he’s most inspired - in his home. with harth, who’s blunt and almost mean at first, though once you break that outer shell, he’s quite kind and caring, but shows it in the smallest ways. with saki, who worries and worries, almost endlessly, about her lover and her son, and link finds that she’s a great friend and is extremely protective, which link sometimes needs. with kaneli, one of the only village elders who doesn’t force him to live under some high standard of who he used to be, who gifts him a house when he realises link is there to stay.

he finds that he can relax in the village. everyone knows him as link the hero who saved our village, not link the hero who failed but came back and saved the world. the excitement about the hero staying at the village soon wears off, though, and everyone treats him the same as they would everyone else. he finds comfort within them. he finds he can relax. it’s safe in the village too, safe enough that link can truly feel it.

it’s nice. nice, nice, nice.

always nice.

but never anything better.

sure, he loves the people here; loves the friends and the people he would consider family, after six months of living there, but it’s just nice-- because there’s something missing.

link’s at the flight range one day, reading through the collection of books that teba keeps there, whenever he gets bored of shooting at the same target again and again. he finds reading relaxing, despite sometimes struggling with the pages with his feathery fingers, especially on a particularly windy day, but he enjoys it regardless.

link’s reading a book on flowers currently, titled “flowers and their meaning”. it’s a basic title and very straight to the point, but he finds the book to be a nice read. it’s a story, a strange one where the main character, a girl with only thirteen years to her name - link has been there - discovers who she really is: a child of the Goddess, with the ability to control the flowers.

it sounds boring at first and it’s slow to get started, but once you’re hooked, there’s no stopping. link finds himself bringing this book with him everywhere, as he likes that it makes him feel something.

despite not having the same power, or the same name or looks or anything like that, he still sees a bit of himself within her.

sees the struggle to be normal, but to be different enough to feel special. sees the attempt to hide the power, hide who she truly is, but end up giving up, and being alienated for it. the book isn’t set in link’s universe; no, it’s one more judgemental than his own, but it’s hard to read because of that. he hates that he can see the world the author created, see it all too well but in his own head.

so he carries this book everywhere, as it makes him feel.

he gets a few questions on it from his close friends, nothing but friendly, and he answers every one of them, somewhat happily (he’s getting happier and happier all the time). his friends smile, and saki even brings him into an unexpected hug, wrapping her warm wings around him and not letting go until his shoulder is soaked with her tears. he loves saki a lot, and saki loves him back.

it’s so nice to feel appreciated all the time, though he finds ‘nice’ isn’t a good enough word to describe everything anymore.

 

* * *

 

it’s been seven months, one week, four days, and seven hours since link defeated ganon. it’s been six months exactly, since he moved to the rito village.

and yet, there has been no signs of revali.

link has seen the old champion around but before he can make his way over, revali is gone, as if into thin air. there’s no proof that he was ever there at all, and link’s starting to wonder whether he’s just imagining things.

the divine beast still stands tall on the pillar of the village, and links decides to climb it. it’s always colder up there, but the air feels nicer, for a reason link can’t name. he climbs up it with what he wishes he could call ease, though he can’t. he has to admit: he’s let himself get out of shape, especially with saki’s wonderful cooking.

so he climbs, for the first time in forever, and he struggles but makes it up to the top. he sits there, with his legs dangling over the edge dangerously, and the wind blowing through his barely-tied back hair (he doesn’t bother controlling it anymore, just lets it run free). the book -  _ his _ book - is next to him, it’s fancy cover shining in the sunlight. 

seeing the divine beast up close is always amazing, to link. they’re bigger than you’d expect, but smaller at the same time. the level of design is beautiful, and you can almost feel the care put into the machinery. he finds himself admiring it, especially from up close, as often as he can. he feels a connection to it, but he’s unsure whether it’s all sheikah creations or just this one (again: he doesn’t really want to find out. unknown feelings were always link’s weakness).

so he sits back slightly, folding his legs now. he opens the book again, feels the soft pages under his fingers again (almost as if it were the first time), reads the first line all over again.

“it is rumoured that flowers are the first creation of the Goddess.” a voice says behind link, who jumps and turns, seeing revali standing there.

he’s surprised but he isn’t, at the same time. 

he nods his head as a greeting but then wonders how revali got up here, with not being able to fly well. he signs this question, and knows that revali understands because all the champions know enough sign language to hold a conversation, but it’s ignored.

“i think it’s a stupid start to a book.” revali adds, sharing his opinion, as always. “of course, the flowers weren’t created first. where would they even go?”

link sits up at this, and frowns.

_‘it’s a story’,_ link signs. _‘i think it’s a nice start. the theme of the book follows the opening sentence closely’._

“i don’t see it, myself, though you were always the one managing to notice the things that no one else could.” the way revali says it hurts link. it sounds like an old joke, but it’s one-sided, and humourless, and sad.

link wishes he could stop hurting people.

_ ‘i’m sorry’, _ link signs. but he doesn’t know what he’s apologising for. revali, again, opts to ignore it, instead walking forward and sitting down next to him.

“do you want me to read it to you?” revali asks, but then sighs, as if that’s not what he wanted to say. he can’t take it back now, though, with a wide-eyed link staring at him, his expression almost resembling a doe: innocent, confused,  ~~ adorable ~~ .

link nods, though. he nods, despite not knowing why revali offered, or why he would care enough to even be up this high with link anyway.

revali takes the book from link’s offering hands. is it warmer up here now, or is it just the close proximity that’s making link’s skin burn? he ignores that, ignores it all. focuses on his favourite words coming out of revali’s mouth.

 

 

_ it’s rumoured that flowers were the first creation of the Goddess. _

_ they’re beautiful, flowers are, and they’re universally appreciated. when you’ve first met, when you’re ill, when you’re going to be married next, when you’re getting married, when you’re ill, when you’re old and find the pleasure in the smallest things, when you’re dead. _

_ we’re all unique, as the Goddess decided. She put effort into all of us, and we put effort into all that we do, whether it’s something small (like buying a flower for someone) or something big (like fighting to keep the entire garden of plants alive). _

_ we’re all different; we’re all unique. we’re all flowers, in a way. _

 

 

link closes his eyes, leaning closer to revali. he’s tired, and it’s warm and everything feels so… perfect (not nice! not nice!  _ perfect _ _!_ ). there’s a faint buzzing in his fingertips and there’s a nice hum in the air. he wonders whether he’s found what was missing but before that thought is completed, he falls asleep, leaning closer, closer-still to revali. 

 

* * *

 

revali shouldn't have been there.

he shouldn’t have been there, but he knows it’s not a mistake. he wants it to be, wishes he could class it as one, but his heart is soaring, as if revali is the one taking to the skies, and all he can feel is excitement.

excitement, however, usually comes with fear.

you’re excited for getting a dog, but what if you lose it, what if you mistreat it, what if i gets into an accident; you’re excited to travel, but what if you get hurt, what if you get lost, what if you die.

there’s the excitement, and then there’s the worry.

you spent time with the love of your life, but what if he hurts you, what if you hurt him, what if he never loves you back.

these are the questions you have to ask yourself. you have to wonder “is it worth it?”

revali doesn’t know if he can be hurt again.

 

* * *

 

link wakes up, with the morning sun rising upon him and he wonders for how long he slept. considering he was collapsed on a rock, his back and shoulders feel surprisingly fine. he rolls his neck, shifts around a bit, but finds that he slept perfectly, with not even a crick in his neck. 

once he’s opened his eyes fully, adjusting to the light, and clambered up to stretch, it sets in that he saw revali last night.

he saw revali, he talked to revali, and revali didn’t run away.

it feels like a miracle, and link feels a weird feeling run through his body. of course, you all know what he does with that feeling (ignores it) but at least, now, he can comment on its existence.

link climbs down the pillar with actual ease, as it’s always easier, for him, on the way down. he may have developed a fear of monsters, though heights are something that never scared him.

he glides his way down, the book in his back pocket, pressing against his thigh; it’s a reminder of what happened last night.

link smiles.

 

* * *

 

link, despite not liking holding a sword, quite enjoys going to the flight range. bows are easier to handle, though link rarely uses one. he only helps make them sometimes, or gives tulin a few lessons, but they’re the only exceptions he makes.

link much prefers to read. teba was the one who first offered his small library, but link is the one who kept coming back for more, as if he were hooked (teba understands the feeling).

“hello.” teba greets, his voice calm. he glances over to link from his place next to the fire, and lifts his wing as a resemblance of a hello.

link nods back.

“you’re not wearing your headdress today,” teba states, though it’s a question.

link doesn’t know how to explain that sometimes the headdress makes his headache, for reasons unknown. it’s like it’s burning his scalp when he puts it on, and it’s digging in everywhere, making link unable to focus. it’s not all the time, only on days where his minds clearer; link wonders where there’s a memory behind it, but he’s not quite ready to suffer to find it.

_ ‘i didn’t feel the need’, _ link signs, and teba shrugs.

“suit yourself.” pause. “do you want any more books?”

_ ‘i’ve got enough, thank you’, _ link signs, and bites at his lip.

teba sighs, and lowers the bow he was crafting, letting it fall against the wooden floor.

“you’re acting strange.” teba notes. “what happened.” it’s a question but, in teba’s soft tone, it all sounds like a statement. it’s strange, really, but link doesn’t mind; this is his family, after all, and he knows them well enough to tell what they truly mean.

_ ‘nothing’, _ link signs. he sits against the wood pillar, close enough to the fire to feel the heat off it (he still feels cold, regardless; he always does without the headdress).

“okay.” teba says, and waits for him to explain. teba doesn’t force it, doesn’t pry until link’s ready; he is kind like that.

_ ‘can you…’  _ link starts, and teba looks up again.  _ ‘can you tell me about revali?’ _

“why can’t you ask him yourself?” teba says, but it’s weird, scary, the way teba lit up, sat forward, as if he’s excited. “or, is whatever you want to know not something you can ask?”

_ ‘no!’ _ link signs, and would yell it if he could.  _ ‘i just… he avoids me a lot. i want to talk to him more.’ _

teba’s gaze changes into one of sympathy.

“revali is… well, you probably know. revali struggles with feelings, expressing himself. a bit like me, i guess-” there’s a pause where teba organises what he’s going to say- “give him time. he’ll come to you. and when he does… be careful.”

link doesn’t quite know what teba means, but doesn’t think it’s the time to say anything, so he just nods, smiles his usual small smile that teba returns, and the pair falls back into silence.

link goes into his back pocket, pulling the book out. he likes reading everywhere, but the flight range is one of his favourite spots. it’s calm, and the wind creates a nice sound between the wood beams. the fire dances, too, and everything feels nice (not nice, better than nice), with teba sat in front of him and tulin asleep against his thigh. 

he opens his book, expecting to see more flowery words making him  _ feel _ but, instead, there’s a feather, dark blue to a lighter shade, with white at the very tip, tucked inside, making him feel something completely different to what he expected.

 

* * *

 

the only time when rito village is lifeless, or almost lifeless, is mating season.

everyone leaves their houses and finds a place to roost, except for those who have no mate. saki and teba wish link goodbye, and a little tulin waves for teba’s back. he wishes them goodbye too, and hopes they have fun (honestly, he doesn’t really know what happens during mating season and he’s not sure he wants to find out).

so harth is left in the village alone, and link spends a lot of time with him. there’s also fyson but link finds it hard to deal with his complaining about their mother never letting them explore, about working too hard and not getting anything back, with being stuck in a job he doesn’t enjoy. link understands but he tries to think more positively now; bad emotions surrounding him don’t help him.

he sits with harth, who carves little details onto already made bows. he can make them too, from a simple swallow bow to the great falcon, but he prefers engraving them with rito symbols. link finds it therapeutic to watch, too, so they sit together in link’s cabin, listening to the birds chirping and the chirping of wood against wood; it’s nicer than it sounds.

_ ‘i want to stretch my legs’, _ link signs, and harth nods.

“see you in a bit.” he says. “don’t get lost,” he adds, with a small smile. link smiles too, as his lack of sense of direction has caused for him to lose his way quite a few times, with a rito or another traveller having to give him directions again.

it’s quiet in the woods, quieter than he expects, and he walks through is, taking in all the sights and smells and sounds he can.

he takes his sheikah slate out when he sees something particularly pretty, snaps a quick picture of it and admires the setting for a few more seconds before continuing on. he does this a few times, eventually sitting on top or a large rock pile, that had a hot spring next to it. he would get in, but link doesn’t think he’s ready to randomly strip in the woods, so he just dangles his feet in it instead.

he sits there on the sun, contentment running down his spine. his hair, which grows longer and blonder the more time he spends outside, reaches down to the middle of his back, and curls up at the ends. his eyes shine blue, like the sea that refuses to be tamed, and the endless sky that stretches over the world. his skin is brown, and it shines in the sun, just like the rest of him. he looks angelic in the sunlight, propping himself up on his arms, watching the squirrels dance through the tree’s thick branches.

it’s peaceful (better than nice), and he feels… satisfied? perhaps it’s not the right word, though there probably isn’t one to describe the happy feeling that link’s experiencing. 

there’s a flutter of wings behind him. link doesn’t even need to turn. (he does anyway, though. who doesn’t want to see his beautiful face?)

_ ‘hello’, _ link greets.

“hello,” revali replied. he steps forward, slowly, hesitantly, until link gestures for him to sit, which he does. “what are you doing here?”

_‘i could ask you the same’,_ link replies. _‘it_ _ ’s good here. i like it.’ _

“i used to come here when i was a fledgeling.” revali says, his voice quiet as he remembers (something that link doesn’t worry about as much, anymore, but still wishes to understand, all the same). “it was a surprise to see someone already here.”

_‘sorry’_ , link signs quickly. _‘i can go, if you want.’_

“no!” revali says, almost desperately. “it’s fine. stay.” he must have sensed link’s hesitance to intrude, so he adds: “i want you here.”

link feels like he’s melting, but doesn’t put it up to the sun. he supposes he must have always felt something for the rito in front of him. he decides to put this into words; once it’s realised, there’s no holding back. not with the new version of him.

_ ‘was i always in love with you?’ _ link signs, and it takes a few seconds for revali to fully understand what he said. he watches the hand symbols, and freezes, as if he believes he’s understanding them wrong.

“excuse me?”

link resigns it, slower this time, after turning to face him. he mouths it too, with more exaggeration, and revali breathes in and out; he’s making a decision too.

“we were once… involved, i guess you could say.” revali, oh, revali - he’s always been so awkward with words.

_ ‘if i told you i loved you now-’ _ revali tenses at this, but link continues-  _ ‘would you say you felt the same’.  _

“i’d rather not go off hypotheticals, here.” revali says, his voice sharp, warning. it’s hopeful and desperate, too, which were two things you’d never expect to hear in his tone.

_ ‘okay, then:’ _ link signs.  _ ‘i love you’.  _

he’s said it, and he doesn’t really care what reply he gets. he’s being truthful with his feelings, maybe for the first time in over a hundred years, and that’s all that matters.

_‘you left me your feather’,_ link signs, continuing before revali can reply. _‘you-- did you craft me a headdress? is that why it aches for me to wear?’_

“it hurts you?” revali asks, snapping out of whatever trance he’s in. “do you need me to alter it for you?”

_ ‘i need an answer’.  _

“i made it for you, yes.” revali says, and he’s nervous and puffing his chest out to show that he’s proud, but he’s not, he’s not, he’s oh-so terrified. “and i left you the feather. i mean, who else would?”

it’s a question, asking whether link is courting anyone else, asking whether revali should be jealous. link shakes his head.

_ ‘and your answer to the first statement?’ _

“i love you.” revali states, and it’s not fearless but it’s not brave either.

_‘nice’,_  link signs, and revali sighs.

“that’s it?”

_‘yup’,_ link replies. _‘now shut up, cuddle me, and watch the birds chase each other with me.’_


	3. the grand finale; union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they're together now, and it's been such a long time. they're in love, so in love, and trust each other with all that they have. 
> 
> they have a family, here, together; something both of them thought they'd never have.
> 
> here's to happy endings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfghjkl i'm so happy with this story honestly, and i'm so glad you all liked it!!
> 
> warnings for this chapter:  
> -violence  
> -injury  
> -hints at death (?)

it’s mating season, again, but fyson has gone to tarry town, opening a chain branch; harth is collecting more wood for bows, fires, houses; revali is alone somewhere, and link isn’t too certain where that is, but it’s fine. everyone needs space sometimes.

so link sits on revali’s landing, a book in hand, same book as always. he’s just finishing the end again (it’s only the seventh time, he argues with himself, whenever he wants to reread it). it’s a nice ending, no matter how many times he experiences it, and he places the book down, leaning his head back against the railing, letting the sun shine over him.

it’s warm out today, a nice temperature (nice; the cold never was link’s climate, though he finds it worth staying here).

it’s when link’s climbing to his feet, thinking of going on a walk or run, that he hears it.

a roar, from down below him and a decent distance away, but it’s still loud enough for link to hear, for fear to be forced down link’s mouth and into his heart, for link’s instinctive freeze response to kick in: it’s a lynel.

but he looks down, across the roads leading to the shooting range, and sees a young pair on one horse, seemingly weaponless, urging their horse to go faster and faster and oh, Goddess, please don’t let that thing get us we’re about to get married– _we need to get married!_

and link is overtaken with it, the need to help. his fear is out of the window, replaced with adrenaline and courage. he’s soaring towards where the beast hunts it prey, his paraglider forming as his wings, as if he were an angel, swooping in to save them.

it’s only when he lands, and the attention is moved from the couple to him, that link realises he’s weaponless, aside from a small scimitar, from when he helped the gerudo, that’s tucked into his side pocket, hidden well.

he draws it, hopes the beast doesn’t see his fear; it’s a blue-maned lynel, link notices now. he prays to the Goddess, to save him if she can, for himself and for revali, for his other friends and family, for his Goddess-son, tulin, who’s too young to lose anyone.

the beast roars again, and link falls into battle position and, despite everything, link isn’t scared, not the kind he used to be, anyway.

he doesn’t fear the monsters, or killing the monsters, or the dreams (nightmares), but he fears the power that the beast has, the fact that he’s only mortal and hasn’t trained for weeks, months, years.

it’s been four years, seven months, one week, and four days since link defeated ganon, and four years and six months exactly since link moved to rito village (but he doesn’t care for dates anymore). he’s out of shape, relying on whatever reflexes he still has, whatever muscle memory he still has, whatever adrenaline he still has.

there’s a deep cut along the lynel’s rump to upper hind leg, when link comes back to the world, and the tip of its horn is missing. there are a few scratches, which could have been fatal is executed correctly, but weren’t.

there’s a quiet forest, when link comes back to the world, and a large lynel rearing back above him, seconds from stomping its hooves down.

link can’t move, not quick enough, anyway. no time to roll out the way, over shield himself, or attack; he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead–

 _crunch_.

there’s an ugly sound, and then hooves pounding, leaving, leaving, and never coming back.

link doesn’t sit up, feels too tired to move, with an ache deep in his bones and a sharp sensation in his jaw. he’s not quite sure he even wants to move, right now.

so he lays in the snow, not feeling the warmth from earlier, now that it’s shielded by a hill. he doesn’t know how long he lies there, whether it’s a few hours or mere minutes, but he closes his eyes once, for a second too long, and he’s passed out, gone.

there’s no pain, no anything, no link to even from a conscious thought. it’s not as nice as it sounds. or maybe it does sound nice (nice, nice, nice; that’s all life ever is?). everyone thinks differently; hell, the Goddess created us all unique, just like flowers. just like flowers.

you receive flowers when you’ve first met, when you’re ill, when you’re going to be married next, when you’re getting married, when you’re ill--

link wakes up, and there’s a mix of swift violets and blue nightshade on the bedside table. he’s in the hospital wing, a place he tries to not often visit, though still has seen it enough to recognise it upon just waking up. he hates the wing, hates the stench of death that lingers around it but, now, all he can smell is the aroma of the sweet flowers rising around him, hugging him tightly.

there’s a tag on them, and link decides he can sit up, though he moves slowly, groaning and his muscles stretch. he reaches out for the tag, and moves slowly during that too, and flips it once it’s in his hand.

the writing is neat, drawn with careful calligraphy, despite the rito not having the easiest things to write with (why don’t you try writing with feathers for fingers, _huh_?). only revali writes like that, now, as it’s no longer taught in rito schools. link loves the handwriting, as you perhaps wouldn’t expect a rito, much less revali, to write so carefully; he’ quick whirlwinds and thunderstorms and often noted to be grumpy, but no one knows that he has patience, so much of it, if he just finds something worth waiting for.

so revali writes, ever so carefully, and link reads, absorbing every word.

 

 

_to the fucking asshole who decided to give me a heart attack,_

_how are you doing? are you well? how’s life there in the care wing? good? oh, that’s nice, isn’t it? feel free to warn me, next time, if you want to go visit Demise._

_i jest, i jest, though you should know that i know how to worry; according to harth, i’m phenomenal at it. he wonders where i stole my heart from, but i don’t know how to tell him that i bought it from atly from the stable._

_if you’ve seen this note, i suppose you’ve seen the flowers too. i also suppose that you know what they mean but if, of course, your head sustained too hard of an injury that you forgot, i’ll retell you._

_swift violets: if added to a dish, may help your stamina for short periods of time, helping you be winded less and able to run towards or away from prey quicker. they’re purple, the colour of power (you’re so strong, for doing what you did) and luxury (you’re so important, and would be so expensive to refind, so be careful). they’re also meant for a quick recovery of the soul, body, and mind– but, link, that doesn’t mean you can eat them. please, just leave the flowers looking pretty._

_blue nightshade: i’m sure you recognise this plant, as we’ve seen it multiple times together when walking through the forest, especially when you showed me the great fairy’s spring. it’s a quiet plant, if a plant could be labelled as quiet, and, when eaten, helps your movements become quieter, too, allowing you to sneak up on people, animals, or other things you wish to hunt. at night, it gives off a soft, dark blue glow, that many people don’t know about, due to their fear of exploring the dark. you were never afraid, not without reason; you know i’ll always be proud of you for that._

_if you’re reading this, and i’m not by your side, know that i’m not far away. being truthful, i’m probably grabbing food because you’ve been asleep for so long, and i assume you’ll be starving when you wake up, especially with an appetite like yours (you really do love letting saki indulge you)._

_signed,_

_your dearest revali_

 

 

that’s the end of the note, and link feels himself smile, but winces and drops his face back into normal position.

“you’re awake, i see.” a voice says - revali- and link jumps, not noticing him leaning in the doorway.

 _‘i got your note’,_ link says instead, ignore the greetings, as they always do. _'how long did it take you to write? ten minutes? half an hour?’_

“you can barely talk. once i saw you write a letter to riju, that time when she wanted to visit, and it took you nearly three hours and you only wrote a page!”

 _'that’s because i didn’t know how to reply without offending her! it’s way too cold for her here’,_ link signs, and then adds: _'you, though, just have fancy handwriting that takes more time to write than coming up with what you’re going to say.’_

“just because i have wings and you don’t.”

_'oh, that’s an old game. you’ve taken me flying with you enough to never fly for myself again.’_

“pah! you never get used to–”

someone clears their throat, and revali and link turns to face the other doorway, which harth stands awkwardly in.

“i, uh, got a note for you, link. from the stable. think they’re saying thank you, seeing how happy they looked.” he says, his nervous stutter coming back (he’s not nervous really, he just hates interrupting people, especially when they’re so happy; maybe it’s just revali, as you would be when he looks at you like that). “i’ll come back later. hope you get better soon.”

link signs his thanks once he receives the letter, and harth nods, before turning and walking away.

“have you ever seen harth that nervous?” revali asks, almost smirking. link rolls his eyes.

 _'you’re probably scaring him, as you were glaring at him the entire time’,_ link signs. ' _i don’t know how he’d be scared of you, though; you’re tiny in comparison. i mean, you’re smaller than me.’_

“just. _just_ smaller.” revali grumbles, and link goes to smile again, but stops himself, remembering.

link wonders how long he’s going to be stuck here, and whether he can go back to his own cabin and rest now, instead, but revali continues talking before he can start.

“it’s not really my fault.” revali says, and link looks at him curiously. “i mean, the way that i was glaring at him…” there’s hesitance in his tone, but link’s used to revali being nervous sometimes (for someone who puts on a confident show, he has a lot of worries and fears).

 _'what do you mean?’_ link signs, as prompting and it’s all revali needs.

“it’s mating season, is it not?” revali asks, as a rhetorical question. “you might not know how rito mating seasons work, but it causes the couple to be… to be too overprotective of each other. you’re supposed to be alone with you and your mate, your fledgelings if you have any, so if anyone who isn’t family is there, they feel like they’re an imposter, or someone who’s here to attack your mate. it’s… it’s a weird feeling but all you can think about is protecting your partner.”

“with us, though, it’s slightly different. we courted, once, and were tied together, but we both died and the connection was broken. we’ve remade it now, though our bodies both remember our Bond being mutually destroyed, so we’re not fully bonded now; rito's do bond for life, after all. it’s hard to explain, especially when the science isn’t fully worked out, but it’s the best i can do.”

 _'you know, you could have said that in, like, one hundred fewer words by just saying_ “our Bond is fucked up because we both died, but i still feel protective over you” _, or something.’_

link rolls his eyes, but revali knows that he found it interesting.

_'just so you know: i can and i will tease you for glaring at our mutual friend, for giving me a thank you note, for the rest of eternity.’_

“at least i have eternity with you,” revali says, and link retches.

_'where’d you get that one from?’_

“this is the last one urbosa added to the list; you’re free of all romantic puns from now until forever.”

_'oh, Goddess, sometimes i really hate you.’_

he doesn’t, and revali knows this, knows it well because they love each other, have each other through tough nights and bright days, have a family of their own, despite it being dysfunctional in places.

then again, everyone is different. everyone is unique.

everyone is a flower, and this garden is a spectacular one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated, september 2018 (copied & pasted): it's ben/jay! i'm here to say you can find me on tumblr @heliopluto (though my url changes regularly, so check my ao3 profile for updates). thank you so much for reading, and (hopefully) enjoying. feel free to send me a message!


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